The foolish pride
Being a kin to a coach’s owner
Sanctions me no right to ride the coach.
Yet I am foolishly proud of him
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Related quotes
The Joy if Church Fellowship Rightly Attended
In heaven soaring up, I dropped an ear
On earth: and Oh, sweet melody:
And listening, found it was the saints who were
Encroached for Heaven that sang for joy.
For in Christ's coach they sweetly sing,
As they to glory ride therein.
Oh, joyous hearts! Enfired with holy flame!
Is speech thus tassled with praise?
Will not your inward fire of joy contain:
That it in open flames doth blaze?
For in Christ's coach saints sweetly sing,
As they to glory ride therein.
And if a string do slip by chance, they soon
Do screw it up again, whereby
They set it in a more melodious tune
And a diviner harmony.
For in Christ's coach they sweetly sing,
As they to glory ride therein.
In all their acts, public and private, nay,
And secret too, they praise impart.
But in their acts divine and worship, they
With hymns do offer up their heart.
Thus in Christ's coach they sweetly sing,
As they to glory ride therein.
Some few not in; and some whose time and place
Block up this coach's way do go
As travelers afoot, and so do trace
The road that gives them right thereto,
While in this coach these sweetly sing,
As they to glory ride therein.
poem by Edward Taylor
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I manage a team, for beach soccer. I'm the coach. Player, coach.
quote by Eric Cantona
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This year my role is clear: I am a coach, a coach to sportsmen.
quote by Anatoli Boukreev
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When I was in university, my dream was to be a coach, like a high school track coach. Not to teach.
quote by Victoria Pratt
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There are times I might coach one or two workouts a year when the regular coach gets caught in traffic.
quote by Mark Spitz
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You've got to be actively involved in the process yourself and you've got to listen carefully to what the coach is saying, take that on board yourself and implement what the coach is saying.
quote by Lynn Davies
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The Dead Coach
At night when sick folk wakeful lie,
I heard the dead coach passing by,
And heard it passing wild and fleet,
And knew my time was come not yet.
Click-clack, click-clack, the hoofs went past,
Who takes the dead coach travels fast,
On and away through the wild night,
The dead must rest ere morning light.
If one might follow on its track
The coach and horses, midnight black,
Within should sit a shape of doom
That beckons one and all to come.
God pity them to-night who wait
To hear the dead coach at their gate,
And him who hears, though sense be dim,
The mournful dead coach stop for him.
He shall go down with a still face,
And mount the steps and take his place,
The door be shut, the order said!
How fast the pace is with the dead!
Click-clack, click-clack, the hour is chill,
The dead coach climbs the distant hill.
Now, God, the Father of us all,
Wipe Thou the widow’s tears that fall!
poem by Katharine Tynan
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But at some point, we've got to have disciplined play and have got to coach better. I'm not putting it on the players. We've got to coach them to tackle and block better. It's as simple as that. If we can do those things, we'll have a chance.
quote by Steve Spurrier
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I'm a bit surprised that the Raiders turned to Art Shell to be their new head coach, not because Shell isn't a good head coach - he had success before as the Raiders' head coach - but because he's been away from the game so long and the game has changed a lot in those years.
quote by Ron Jaworski
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Sight Seeing.
Walking around the Arc de Triomphe
Looking up at the names carved in the
Walls wondering if you’d see any names
Of distant relatives carved up there
Amongst the brave and fallen knowing
The coach would be waiting soon and
Wanting to see more and take in the
Atmosphere of the place trying to avoid
The other foreigners with their cameras
And tourist garb and glasses wishing to
Capture with your eyes images for your
Minds to feed on and remember when
You lie in bed and talk with the lights
Out and seeing now the coach driver and
Guide waving their arms you know it’s
Time for you and your lady to go back to
The coach and sit and wait for the next
City sight and the coming of a Paris night.
poem by Terry Collett
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There was a coach driver called Ken,
Took us to Newquay and back hyem,
We all rocked with laughter
At his Geordie banter,
That witty coach driver called Ken.
quote by by Edith Oram
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Removing the faults in a stage-coach may produce a perfect stage-coach, but it is unlikely to produce the first motor car.
quote by Edward De Bono
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The Coach Of Life
Although her load is sometimes heavy,
The coach moves at an easy pace;
The dashing driver, gray-haired time
Drives on, secure upon his box.
At dawn we gaily climb aboard her
We're ready for a crazy ride,
And scorning laziness and languor,
We shout: 'Get on, there! Don't delay!'
But midday finds our courage wane,
We're shaken now: and at this hour
Both hills and dales inspire dread.
We shout: 'Hold on, drive slower, fool!'
The coach drives on just as before;
By eve we are used to it,
And doze as we attain our inn.
While Time just drives the horses on.
poem by Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin
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In life it wasn't what you know, but who you know. I had people who were trying to buy teams and had they bought the teams, I would have gotten to coach because they wanted me to coach. But the people who have the teams hire their friends.
quote by Rick Barry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Trouble In The Gym
The gym is a place nobody wants to be,
you have the coach yelling at you,
the ropes get loose when you're climbing and you fall off,
people are shoving you down during inline hockey,
nobody calls a foul when you get run over in basketball,
you argue with the coach,
you have to take your shirt off in shirts versus skins football,
you look really skinny when you can't bear to look at anybody who's a skin,
the obstacle course is rather a torture device,
and you get beat down in track and field.
Don't you just want to avoid this torture?
A needless pity
One may walk a horse, one may ride it
Or one is drawn by it in a coach.
Husbands conduct their wives likewise.
Why should others comment about them?
19.07.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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On Time
I aint got time , only got a dime to make a last call
Im gettin soaking wet and it aint rained yet since last fall
I got myself a coach ticket on the southern railroad line
I dont have to worry cause I know it never leaves on time
Late last night we made love and evrything was all right
You walked out the door and the only thing I saw was the hall light
I got myself a coach ticket on the southern railroad line
I dont have to worry cause I know it never leaves on time
(break)
Why didnt you see that you dont feel the same way as I do
I understood before that you couldnt take much more as I knew
I got myself a coach ticket on the southern railroad line
I dont have to worry cause I know it never leaves on time
song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Coney Island Baby
You know, man, when I was a young man in high school
You believe in or not I wanted to play football for the coach
And all those older guys
They said he was mean and cruel, but you know
Wanted to play football for the coach
They said I was to little too light weight to play line-backer
So I say Im playing right-end
Wanted to play football for the coach
cause, you know some day, man
You gotta stand up straight unless youre gonna fall
Then youre gone to die
And the straightest dude
I ever knew was standing right for me all the time
So I had to play football for the coach
And I wanted to play football for the coach
When youre all alone and lonely
In your midnight hour
And you find that your soul
Its been up for sale
And you begin to think bout
All the things that youve done
And you begin to hate
Just bout everything
But remember the princess who lived on the hill
Who loved you even though she knew you was wrong
And right now she just might come shining through
And the -
- glory of love, glory of love
Glory of love, just might come through
And all your two-bit friends
Have gone and ripped you off
Theyre talking behind your back saying, man
Youre never going to be no human being
And you start thinking again
bout all those things that youve done
And who it was and what it was
And all the different things you made every different scene
Ahhh, but remember that the city is a funny place
Something like a circus or a sewer
And just remember different people have peculiar tastes
And the -
- glory of love, the glory of love
The glory of love, might see you through
Yeah, but now, now
Glory of love, the glory of love
The glory of love, might see you through
Glory of love, ah, huh, huh, the glory of love
Glory of love, glory of love
Glory of love, now, glory of love, now
Glory of love, now, now, now, glory of love
Glory of love, give it to me now, glory of love see you through
Oh, my coney island baby, now
(Im a coney island baby, now)
Id like to send this one out for lou and rachel
And all the kids and p.s. 192
Coney island baby
Man, Id swear, Id give the whole thing up for you
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Click
Someone please tell me why
favortism is still running rampid
oh coach, oh coach
just play my kid
I don't make a lot of cash
I'm not the middle class
Your team is not going to win
Anything
They're just freshman, for petes sake
play them all equally
they all practice together
through the howling winds of change
through all the nasty weather
You were ahead fifty freaking points
yet you put back in the starting five
with only a few minutes to go
what were you thinking
that decision
so rude, sow low
there are more things in life
that trying to be impressive
with your coaching philosophy
it's ignorant thinking
as far as I can see
Most of all these starting five
whined that there teamates even got in
just as there parents
born without
sin
poem by Matt Mondschein
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Bhuddia Singh
A boy, four years’ of age, by mother sold,
Whose stamina was unusual for age;
Was discovered by a coach out in the cold,
And trained to be a marathon runner.
The coach paid back sum eight hundred rupees
And bought the boy back from the hawker old;
He gave him special food; reared him with love;
He exercised him so regularly!
He knew the boy could run a marathon!
He made him run long distances daily;
The boy had pace and breathing well-suited;
And soon he set a marathon record!
He entered ‘Limca Book of Records’ fast;
The tiny star had caught world attention;
They want to make a film about his life;
The human rights committee sent notice!
The boy was sent for a medical check-up;
He suffers much protein deficiency;
His kidneys could get damaged if he ran;
The doctors told him not to run for now.
He’d run sixty-five kilometers race!
May be, it was too much for his small age;
Nevertheless, a prodigy he turned;
He’ as the cynosure of all eyes in sports!
Is it exploitation of small children?
Is it an experiment by a coach?
More medical tests will show trauma done;
Kudos to boy: his coach and his great run!
The Indian lad could win Olympic gold;
He needs sponsors and special coaching care;
One can become great, born in sufferings!
The world shouldn’t ignore plight of all children.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-8-2006
poem by John Celes
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